I'm Still Breathing
by IWillNeverShutUpAgain
Summary: Nine months after leaving his abusive ex-fiance, single parent/social worker Stiles Stilinski finds himself enamored with the single father and the client of his next case: Scott McCall. My first real attempt at slow build Sciles. If I had to peg an age, I'd say they're in their mid-twenties.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**_ : Hello. It's me. I was wondering if after all this time you thought I left... I was reading Sciles on Ao3 last night and I discovered a muse for this new story. Triggers ahead.

* * *

"Stop." Stiles put his hands up in front of him. "It ends now. You're not hurting them anymore." He narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired man before him. "I told Lydia what you've been doing to them, to me. She's gonna kill you."

"Stiles, no matter what you do, you can't keep me away from them. Remember whose sperm went into Lydia Martin in the first place? Because you couldn't get it up for her after all those years of pining?"

Stiles picked up Liam, almost three years old, and held him to his chest. He would never hit Stiles with the kids in hand. "It's over. I should have left you the day I saw the bruise on Isaac's arm."

"You still believe I did it. I told you repeatedly that he fell out of the tree out front."

"On _your_ watch!" Stiles hated how long he put up with this. Four years of physical, emotional and psychological abuse, two and a half with Isaac and Liam. They had adopted Isaac in the first year, the curly-haired boy only five years old when Stiles' social work removed him from his abusive father's custody.

Piercing blue orbs went into puppy dog mode, a way Stiles was all too familiar with and on many occasions had succumbed to, but not now. The cigarette burn on Isaac's shoulder was the last straw. "Mieczyslaw..." Damn it. He was also one of the few people who could pronounce—and therefore use—Stiles' real name against him.

"You do not get to call me that any longer. That's for people who love me. And if you dare say that you love me after the way you've treated me, I swear to God..."

"Stiles!" The front door swung open and Lydia stood there, green eyes ablazing. "Come on. Jordan's in the car."

"Lydia." The smug smirk was back. "You can't take the kids from me. You're lucky Stiles is fucking soft and wants you in their lives. I'm their father."

The redhead, although over half a foot shorter, still brought fear to whoever dared cross her. Stiles was carrying Liam and had Isaac's hand, guiding them outside. He handed the infant to the eight-year-old, telling him to go to the Parrishes' car quietly. The blond obeyed, and Stiles turned to face him for what he hoped was the last time.

"It's okay, Lyds. I got this." Lydia looked back at him and, after a moment's hesitation, nodded, moving a little. "We're done. I'm doing what I should have done the day you first hit me. I'm breaking up with you." Stiles turned to leave.

"You haven't heard the last of me, Stiles. I promise you that."

Not bothering to look back, he spoke. "Goodbye, Matt."

* * *

"Stiles!" The black-haired man snapped back to reality. "You weren't thinking about—" Lydia sat down beside him. "I'm sorry."

Nine months have passed since Stiles left Matt, and no retaliation has yet to pass from his ex-fiancé. He, Isaac and Liam now resided with Lydia and Jordan in Lydia's old house. Stiles hadn't tried to find someone new, despite his friends' attempts. He couldn't do it; he just wanted to focus on the kids. The last injury Matt inflicted on Isaac had shaken the boy so badly that he became silent, and he calmly told Isaac that he could talk again when he was ready, even though the boy's teachers had expressed concern over his lack of socialization. Stiles was unaware of this but Lydia had filled the school staff in on what happened to Isaac at home, and they stopped pressing it.

"No problem." Stiles sighed and moved his mouse, playing Pong against the computer.

"I hate seeing you like this. As often as I tell you to shut up, I want the hyperactive, babbling Stiles back." Lydia handed him a coffee. "The hot Starbucks barista was asking about you again." Stiles groaned. "I'm not implying that you have to go out with him but throw the dog a bone and go to a movie or something. You know Jordan and I will watch Isaac and Liam. No offense but I'm getting tired of your moping." Stiles opened his mouth to reply. "Look, I am not saying you have to get over him. He did so much to you. Somewhere deep—probably buried—inside that cold, sick lump one could call a heart, Matt did love you."

Stiles recalled the nights that Matt wasn't hitting him, the nights of romantic dinners, cuddling in bed with the kids. Unfortunately, the abuse was the majority of nights. Matt would drink a lot or, when they went out, become jealous when he believed the waiter was flirting with Stiles. He was charming and calm in public but the moment they got into the car, Matt would slap Stiles, calling him a tease. Stiles would try to deflect a hit or two and get it worse when they got home. The babysitters they hired—Boyd and Erica, Allison, all high school classmates of Stiles and Matt—never actually witnessed Matt's rage but somehow knew about it and tried to talk Stiles into leaving him. And he seriously considered it, but Matt always reeled him back in with empty promises that he'd never lay a hand on Stiles again.

"I can't. Let me just—" Stiles clicked back into his case file. "Skye McCall. Wait," he looked up at Lydia, "McCall? As in Scott McCall? From high school?" Lydia nodded and Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Is there some ulterior motive you have for giving me this in particular?"

"I will have you know, Stilinski, that, one, I would never try to hook you up with a client, and secondly, I did not assign you to this case. Laura did. Besides, he's divorced from a woman. They met at UC Davis; her name is Heather Curtis, she was a drama student who tutored Scott in a couple courses, wedding bells soon followed, a couple nights in the hospital during birth, and then she went into psycho controlling bitch mode... and the rest is history. Get to work." Lydia flipped her hair in a very high school fashion and returned to her office, leaving Stiles to stare at the file photo of Scott McCall.

* * *

Scott pulled up in front of Beacon Hills Elementary School and got out of the car, following another call from the principal about Skye getting into a fight. He knew his daughter would never start a fight but she sure as hell would finish one, and, according to the call, she was defending a boy who had trouble standing up for himself. Scott couldn't be prouder.

"Dad, I can explain," was Skye's first response when she saw her father enter the administration office. Scott put a hand on her head.

"You don't have to. I know." He nodded gently and a look of relief passed over her face. She'd gotten Scott's empathy and her mother's fierce stubbornness.

Principal Davis stepped out of his office with a dark-haired boy who sported a pretty nasty looking black eye. "Go wait for your mother over there," he said quietly, before giving Scott an acknowledging nod. "Mr. McCall, we're just waiting on the boy's father."

At that moment, a man stumbled into the office, looking disheveled. "I'm so sorry! It was super last minute, I'm pretty sure I broke a couple traffic laws."

"Mr. Stilinski, in here." Scott tilted his head. Where had heard that name before? The local sheriff, of course, but this wasn't him. Then it clicked. Stiles Stilinski, the weird, ADHD kid from high school. They never hung out or anything but they were civil.

Once the fathers were seated beside their kids, Stiles' son had dirt on his face. Apparently, Skye had come to Isaac's rescue when she saw Devon Donati pushing his face into the ground. Other nearby students testified that she told him to knock it off, Devon told her to go play with dolls like any other little girl, and that's when she punched him.

"Although it never should have come to physical retaliation," Principal Davis was saying, "where they were on the playground had no nearby yard supervisors, which we will be placing at least two from here on out. Skye's actions are commendable. Don't tell Mr. Donati I said that." The principal cracked a small smile. "And she will serve a day of lunchtime detention." Skye opened her mouth to complain. "Only so we can say you were punished. That's it. Nothing more." She slumped her shoulders in defeat.

"Thank you." Stiles turned to the girl with a grin. "For helping Isaac." He held out his hand.

Skye examined him for a moment before firmly returning the gesture. "Anytime." She grabbed her backpack and stood up. "I'll be in the car."

Scott chuckled a little and left the office with Stiles, who had Isaac by the shoulders. "That's an amazing little girl you've got there," Stiles said, squeezing Isaac a little. "You okay, buddy?" Isaac looked up at his father and nodded. Stiles wet his thumb and started wiping some of the dirt off but Isaac squirmed away and ran out the same way Skye had left.

"Skye told me he never says a thing," Scott said quietly. "She doesn't know why and I don't want to pry or anything..."

Stiles watched the two children together, Skye talking near nonstop—mirroring Stiles as a kid—and Isaac moving animatedly with whatever she was saying. "It's a long story, and it's not a happy one." Nine months of silence and Matt Daehler still had a hold on him. "Thanks again, Scott. I'll see you around." Stiles went to collect Isaac, who resisted leaving at first but waved to Skye, who waved back. Scott just watched after them.

* * *

Lydia was home when Stiles and Isaac returned. Jordan was making dinner and she was playing with Liam in the living room. The brownish-blond four-year-old looked up and broke into a toothy grin at the sight of his father and older brother.

"'Zac!" Liam hugged Isaac's legs. Stiles couldn't help but smile. Liam couldn't say Isaac yet so he called him Zac. "Dirty?" The little boy asked, trying to reach Isaac's face to clean him off. Isaac only nodded and bent down to pick Liam up.

Liam was a little late to start talking, which Stiles immediately blamed on Matt's genetics, especially when the topic first came up, Lydia had that look on her face that dared him to fault her. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Hey, buddy." Jordan came over with a wet towel to clean Isaac's face. "Lyds told me what happened. The school called here first. You alright?" Isaac nodded and allowed Jordan to clean him off. "She must be quite a girl to fight off a boy twice her size, huh?"

"Especially if the boy is the offspring of Donovan Donati," Lydia muttered, putting up the blocks Liam was occupied with. "Who would do that with him, I'll never— No, wait, I don't _want_ to know."

Jordan stood up and ruffled Isaac's hair. "You and Liam go wash up for dinner, okay?" The boys ran off and he put an arm on Stiles' shoulder. "I love them like they were mine."

"They are sort of yours too. I mean, married to the mother and all." Stiles beamed. He couldn't have gotten through leaving Matt without Lydia and Jordan. "They need all the support they can get. I want to hear Isaac's voice again."

Lydia looped herself on Stiles' other side. "You will. It just takes time. I will personally see to it that _he_ never touches our children again."

* * *

"I know I promised to never ask you for help again, but..." Matt sighed. "I need your help." He looked up at the door slot.

The eyes behind the slot didn't blink but the latch clicked and the door opened. "You've got a lot of balls coming back here, Daehler. You said you were too good for my assistance."

"I know! But I want my sons back. _I'm_ their father, not that cowardly social worker I regret to call my ex." Matt didn't move; he could see one of the bodyguards in the back with a gun. "Please."

It took a moment but he was granted entry. "Thank you so much, Mr.—"

"Just shut up and get inside."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**_ : My goal with this story is long chapters, way longer than most of my work. Definite triggers ahead.

* * *

"You sure you can go to school today, bud?" Stiles knelt down in front of Isaac. "I'm not blaming you for me coming to school. It's not your fault and I'm not expecting you to talk just because you think I won't love you any less. You are my son and I will love you no matter what. Okay?" Isaac nodded. "Alright." A knock came at the door, and Stiles opened it to reveal Scott and Skye.

"Sorry for the random drop-in but Skye wants to walk with Isaac. I think she has a little—" Scott feigned a blow to the stomach as Skye elbowed him.

Stiles looked down at Isaac, who smiled shyly and walked onto the sidewalk with the girl. Their fathers looked on fondly. "I'm so grateful Skye is there for him. Isaac's never really been good at making friends."

"Neither has she," Scott murmured. "Her abrasive tendencies stem from her mother. She left a few months ago, thank God." Scott tilted his head a little. "Heather could be a little... extreme. She never used to be. When Skye turned three, she was nothing but. The amount of pressure and abuse Heather put on Skye is why I think I have to show Social Services that I can care for her on my own."

Stiles listened intently and hated that he had to be that agent to check up on the McCalls. "Scott, I should tell you..." He sighed. "You're doing a bang-up job of raising her." Scott looked over at him with a warm smile. "I just want you to know that this was completely coincidental and I just found out yesterday that... I'm the Social Services agent you're waiting for."

"No shit?" Scott watched as Skye took Isaac's hand, talking his ear off as they walked towards the school. "To be honest, dude, I thought you were going to follow in your dad's footsteps and become a deputy or something."

Stiles shut the door behind him and crossed his arms. "I was but I was talked out of it. Remember Lydia Martin?" Scott nodded. "She's now Lydia Parrish and my boss at the office. Saw me working with some of the neglected kids and offered me the job." Matt had claimed that they wouldn't have enough quality time as a couple if he became a deputy. Little did Stiles know that the real reason Matt talked him out of becoming a deputy was the shady people he affiliated with.

"Stilinski!" Stiles looked up to see his higher-up (higher than Lydia) Laura Hale in the passenger seat of a black Camaro. "I need you to—" She stopped and from the other side appeared Jackson Whittemore.

"McCall." He nodded. "Stilinski, in the car!"

Giving Scott an apologetic smile, Stiles started to leave. "See you later, Scott." Walking to Jackson's side, he nudged the taller male in the shoulder. "Asshole." He waved to Scott and got into the back before Jackson moved the seat and got in. "You apparently still lack the thing called tact, Jackass."

"Don't you have some code of conduct like not flirting with the client?" Practically able to hear the smirk in Jackson's voice, Stiles resisted the urge to kick his seat like a petulant child.

"I was not flirting!" Stiles crossed his arms and Laura looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't! If this were professional, why would _he_ be at where _I_ live?" Laura seemed to accept this and reached for Jackson's hand. "You guys are gross. I don't know what you see in him."

Now at the stoplight before the office parking lot, Jackson took the chance to hit Stiles with the back of his chair. "I'm hot, Spazlinski, and I don't attract psychos." Laura smacked his shoulder hard. "Ow! Man..." Jackson pulled into his designated space and got out, rubbing his upper arm.

"Totally uncalled for, Jackson," Laura reprimanded as she—as always so gracefully—stepped out of the car. "You two are just like these kids. Apologize to Stiles."

"But—!" Laura gave him one of her famous looks. "Sorry, Stilinski."

Stiles got out on Jackson's side and clapped his aching shoulder. "It's okay. But that's your one time because you kicked his ass once. Next time, I'll hit you myself."

"You want me," Jackson muttered, shoving past Stiles on the way to the elevator.

"No. I tolerate your dumb ass, Jackson. Why I still put up with you, I'll never understand. I think you took one too many lacrosse balls to the head." Stiles pulled out his buzzing phone to see a restricted number. "Hold that thought." He walked off to one of the empty conference rooms and shut the door. "Hello?"

"Stiles." The black-haired man froze. "Don't hang up." His thumb hovered over the end call button. "You hang up on me and he," the color drained from Stiles' face when he heard Liam's cooing, "will never see his papa again."

Stiles tried to steady his breathing as he sunk to the floor. "What do you want? You're not going to hurt him. He's yours."

Matt chuckled. "You should really do a better job at background checks on your babysitters, Stiles." Stiles and Lydia had just hired—on outstanding references—a couple, Tracy and Josh, to watch Liam. "Tracy and Josh are my associates. If _you_ had dropped them off this morning instead of Lydia's idiot husband, you'd be here too."

He knew better than to threaten Matt with the police. The one time he did resulted in one of the worst nights of Stiles' life and he didn't want to even begin to recall it. "What do you want?" He repeated calmly.

"I want a family reunion, Mieczyslaw. Me, you, Liam and Isaac." Matt's voice had a dangerous edge to it. "Josh is already on his way to pick up Isaac from school."

"He won't be able to. The only people with permission to take _my_ son from school are myself, Lydia and Jordan. You will never lay a hand on Isaac again." Stiles got up and began heading down, using the stairs to avoid his colleagues.

Matt tsked. "Stiles. Stiles. Stiles. Don't you remember? I'm always one step ahead of you. Those days I took the boys out while you had to work? I swore them to secrecy but they met Tracy, Josh, Garrett and Violet. All four have been very good to them. The school won't know a thing." Stiles knew that Skye would keep Isaac safe. That girl would never let Isaac out of her sight. He looked around the parking lot.

"If you hurt my boys, I swear I..."

"You're not exactly in the position to be making threats, Stiles. I want to see you again. I have Garrett and Violet waiting for you in a van. Just cooperate and no one gets hurt." A van pulled up beside Stiles and the door opened to reveal a blond man and an African-American woman, both wearing small smirks. "Get in, Stiles."

Stiles sighed and willingly got in, only to be knocked unconscious as the door slammed.

* * *

The next thing Stiles knew, he was wet. He blinked and looked around at the warehouse. To his surprise, he wasn't bound to anything, just lying on an old mattress. Standing before him was Matt, Garrett and Violet; the female was holding a bucket.

"Stiles." Matt was grinning. "Always a pleasure to see you."

"Wish I could say the same." The grin vanished. "Where's my son, Matt?"

Matt stepped forward and grabbed Stiles by the front of the shirt, picking him up. "He's not yours, Stiles. He's mine and Lydia's. You had nothing to do with the creation process."

Stiles took the handling in stride but never once flinched, as he used to whenever Matt touched him. "But I love him like a son more than you ever will." He was slapped across the face. "If this is how you treat me, imagine how you treat the kids."

"You never know when to shut the fuck up, Stiles." Garrett had to pull Matt away before he struck Stiles again. "I left you alone for nine months. I counted the days before I could get my hands on you again. I wanted you to think you were safe."

"You did promise." Stiles cocked his head. "I spend every day wondering when you'd have the balls to come back."

The door opened and Tracy and Josh walked in. "Well?" Matt snarled. "Where's Isaac?" The two looked at each other and back at Matt. "For fuck's sake, he's eight years old! How could you not just grab him?"

"There was a girl with him. A very loud, annoying girl." Stiles thanked the heavens for Skye. "We tried the candy approach but then she started screaming about strangers. Had the teachers running over in a flash. The security guard may have taken down our license plate."

A bang filled the room and another man walked in, holding a gun and shooting both Tracy and Josh in the head. Both hit the floor in seconds. Stiles scrambled up against the wall, finally coming to the realization that if Matt was with these people, that's why the son of a bitch convinced him not to pursue police work.

"So you're..." The man twirled the gun in his hand. "Stiles Stilinski." Stiles nodded. "You don't remember me, do you?" Stiles shook his head. "I guess I look a little different since the fourth grade."

Stiles blinked and examined the man for a moment. "Theo?"

* * *

"Skye, what did the people look like?" Sheriff Stilinski bent in front of the two children in the school administration office. The security officer had alerted the police station as Tracy and Josh fled. "I just need a few identifying characteristics, like tattoos, piercings, anything to pull them out of a lineup."

Skye chewed on her lower lip. "The man had an earring, left ear only. And he had a buzzcut." She glanced at Isaac. "The lady was blonde, really pretty. Her hair was past her shoulders. And her bellybutton was pierced. They both seemed friendly with Isaac, like they knew him." Isaac was busy writing something down, which he handed to his grandfather.

Noah scanned it. " _Their names are Tracy and Josh. Dad and Aunt Lydia hired them to be Liam's babysitters. Uncle Jordan dropped Liam off with them this morning. If they're trying to get me away, I think he's back._ " ' _He's_ ' was underlined several times, and Noah knew.

"You've been a big help, buddy." He ruffled Isaac's hair, which earned him a smile. "You two get to class and stay inside, okay?" The children nodded and ran back to the main building. "Shit."

The familiar fast-paced clacking of heels had Noah prepared for the impending explosion. "Where is my son?" Lydia demanded, storming through the office door, with Jordan on her heels. Noah calmly handed her Isaac's paper, which she quickly read. The expression on her face was indecipherable but the men quickly backed away. "He's fucking dead."

* * *

"Papa!" Stiles suddenly had an armful of excitable four-year-old. He held Liam close. "Daddy got me this!" The boy proudly held up a stuffed wolf. "I wanna be a wolf! Rawr!" Liam seemed unharmed and Stiles couldn't bear to part with him.

Matt sat down beside Stiles and played with Liam. Stiles glanced over at him and felt a twinge of something but then he remembered that he was being held captive and any sense of feeling towards the other disappeared.

"It didn't have to come to this, Stiles," Matt said softly. He was silent for a minute. "You haven't moved on, have you?"

"I can't," Stiles whispered. "Every time I think something will work out, I remember what you did to me, to them, and I can't let someone get hurt because I'm afraid of what you might do." Matt opened his mouth but Stiles cut him off. "We are not getting back together. Ever."

Matt chewed on his lower lip. "But— But I love you, Stiles. I'll never hurt you—"

"Don't. That stopped working a long time ago. Do you even comprehend the long-term consequences of your abuse?" Stiles pulled a now exhausted Liam to his chest and stroked his hair. "Isaac hasn't said a word in nine months. _Nine months_!"

"Zac?" Liam looked up at Stiles, blue eyes wide and on the verge of tears.

Stiles took a shuddering breath and cupped Liam's cheeks. "We'll see Zac soon, buddy. I promise." Liam hiccuped but rested his head against Stiles once more. "See what you're doing to him? He wants his big brother, and you're preventing that from happening."

"I can change, Stiles. Really."

"Like I haven't heard that one before either," Stiles muttered. "You've used just about every cliched 'I'm sorry' line in existence, and you never follow up on it. Maybe one day, two tops, of nice, seemingly stable Matt, and then poof! He's gone, and I'm back to getting punched in the face, or Isaac has a new bruise, or you left Liam by himself. Face it, Matt. You don't deserve to be a parent or a partner."

Matt hung his head. Three years ago, Stiles would have apologized profusely had he gone off as he just did. "And what the hell is Theo Raeken doing here? These people— _this_ is why I couldn't be a deputy with my dad? Because you were scared I'd break up this little underground crime world you've involved in? Man, if you thought Lydia let you off easy nine months ago, you're practically dead now."

The door opened once more and Violet took the sleeping Liam from Stiles, much to his protests. Matt put a hand on Stiles' chest to keep him from fighting. "She's very well trained, Stiles. I wouldn't recommend it." The door closed, leaving them alone.

"So what are you waiting for?" Stiles shoved Matt away and pulled his knees to his chest. "You going to unleash all that pent-up rage you have and beat me senseless? Perhaps rape me? Wouldn't be the first time."

Matt stood up and looked down at his ex, his blue eyes darkening. He shook his head. "I tried to be nice." Stiles snorted. "Catch-up time is over." He unbuckled his belt and used it to hit Stiles across the face, knocking him onto his back. "You missed me, Sti. I missed you too."

"And we're back to Fifty Shades of Matt Daehler..." He said through a bleeding nose, and was then knocked out.


End file.
